Heading out for dinner at a friend's house. The chilluns is at Nonna's house, and I hear fresh gulf shrimp calling my name.

I spent nearly the ENTIRE afternoon cleaning THE GIRL's room. Yes, just one small bedroom, packed floor to ceiling with the detritus of a much loved (spoiled? nah...) little girl. Six garbage bags later, three to Goodwill, three for the trash can, and her room is neat, organized and clutter free. Should last until about Wednesday....

Of course at four, she is far more hindrance than help, but it is a requirement that she be there with me, she can straighten up her room on her own, but this was the deep clean...that only mom/dad can do.

Me: C? how about this one? (holding up the broken Barbie with only one arm and one leg, that I dug out of the BOTTOM of her dresser drawer)

Her: Mom!!! GOSH!! You found it, I've been looking everywhere for that!!! (snatches it from me, clutches it to her chest like a long lost sister, and turns away crooning to it)

I later wait until she is crooning to the NEXT long lost treasure, and toss the limbless Barbie into the trash bag.

I applaud her even handedness and diversity. She does not descriminate against the handicapped, and is just as likely to toss the legless Barbie into the Barbie Jeep and drive to the Barbie vet's office as she is any other. However, the clutter eats at my soul.

Too bad she skipped her nap today, I might have been able to get the Jeep in the bag too. ;-)